Against the Wall
by Pinlicous
Summary: Tooth-rotting fluff. Dean contemplates life and then Cas barges in on the middle of it all. Stuff happens.


**Author's Note ** Personally, I think this is terrible. But, I hope you like it anyway.

Prompt from someonejustlovemealready via Tumblr.

* * *

There were only two things constant in Dean's life. Sam and hotel rooms.

The dingy hotel room scene had repeated itself hundreds of times. One after the other displayed yellowed-out and faded wallpaper, peeling off the wall. Cracked floor tiles or stained carpets. Creaky beds with little to no bed on them. The single table and chair recognized in each room granted minimal comfort.

Yes, they were crappy hotel rooms, but they were vaguely familiar. That is more than he can say about much of anything in his life. For a while he contemplated just throwing all the mess under the rug and living a "normal, apple pie life". He wasn't keen on letting people die because of it, though. That wasn't ever going to change.

And the snide remarks, curses, punches, where what he looked forward to when Sam entered the room. He wanted to wring his stress from every inch of his muscles. And the best way to do that was chalk it up with Sam. But Sam wasn't in the mood. He never was. Not for anything. He was boring, predictable, and just find the way he was.

No, Sam wasn't someone Dean could be intimate with. Hell, he couldn't even talk to the guy without some chick flick movie coming to life. And to be honest, Dean didn't want that from him. He just wanted a brother- which he, thankfully, had. He was fine with that.

While thinking of this, somehow out of the blue, it got Dean thinking about other things. He couldn't have a normal girlfriend or wife. That was shooting himself in the foot, let alone impossible. Even back in his earlier years, he couldn't keep a constant relationship with anyone. He made sure of it.

But now that Sam and Dean have discovered this new Men of Letters bunker, he wasn't so sure about that anymore. Maybe, just maybe, if he met someone who could hold their own, he could be happy. He could have a relationship with someone without fearing their death. This was a safe place if you know how to hold your own.

So, when Castiel popped in the room from god knows where, it startled Dean from his thoughts. He looked up at the blue eyed ocean, disgruntled, and haphazard mess, it sparked something. Whether it was because Dean was caught in the middle of thought, or that he just wanted to try it, he wasn't sure. But seeing Cas for the first time in months, Dean was overjoyed. Despite Castiel's awkward sense of... well everything, Dean couldn't stand being away from the guy.

Dean lifted himself from the edge of the bed, avoiding eye contact while he did so.

"So, uh... were ya been?" Dean asked, voice cracking slightly before he could clear his throat. Smooth.

When no answer came, Dean forced himself to look into the angel's eyes. He wasn't hurt, nor was he perfectly healthy. He looked somewhat banged up, but being an angel isn't exactly a cake walk.

Dean stepped closer, looking deeper into his eyes. "Hey, I asked you a question."

"I... am not sure. But I wanted you to know that I've heard your prayers. I just needed time to-"

Dean held up his hands, pursing his lips. "I've heard it before, man. No need for repeats."

Castiel seemed marginally taken aback by this, frowning morose than when he arrived. Dean wasn't sure why, but he stepped slightly closer. Maybe to prove his point.

Cas took a step forward now, too, allowing the space between them to disperse. Castiel slightly wondered whether or not Dean's "personal space" was finished with. He was still foggy on the details of that one.

"Look man, I'm just glad to see you. How ya holding up? Last time we saw you, you weren't exactly all there." Dean gestured to the side of his head, making circular motions with his index finger.

"I was distracted by certain affairs. But hearing your calls has somehow helped me clear things up a bit. I seem to be... more down to earth 'at the moment'." He air quoted some of the words mistakenly, but Dean just smiled. Cas was back to himself. But, for how long, he wasn't sure.

"Look, Cas, there's something I want to..." Dean trailed off, looking away gawkily, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. He wasn't sure if he was serious about this or not. The recent past had crept up on him, though. Aaron certainly hadn't helped with that. And it's not like Dean hasn't had thoughts about Castiel before. He's an attractive man, no lies here. But, still, he's an angel. A clueless angel.

Dean didn't want this to turn out to be some sappy, first time moment. He wanted to get past all that and never look back. So, he balled his fits into Castiel's large, tan overcoat and swung him around. They stumbled forward, Cas crashing into the wall while Dean crashed into him. Their lips met tenderly, though, as Dean stopped himself short. Just because Cas was a guy, didn't mean he didn't know what to do. Come on.

When Castiel showed no signs of disagreement, Dean continued on, deepening the kiss. His hands started to travel over Castiel's arms, shoulders, and chest. Cas agreed to these actions, making his own trail of gropes along Dean's body. Dean lifted his hand, placed it under Castiel's chin, and lifted his head slightly. A perfect angle to kiss him deeper, with the addition of tongue, while also allowing Dean to push Cas further into the wall.

Cas didn't taste of anything but mouth. Still, Dean wanted to imagine he did taste like something. Something like a sweet sucker or smoothie. Something delicious to go with his already pleasurable actions.

Cas broke the kiss, taking a large breath of air. Dean knew he didn't have to, but he was thankful for the gesture. Dean exhaled slowly, breathing his whiskey laced breath over Castiel's face. Cas shut his eyes, smiling at the odd smell. Dean always smelt of cologne or alcohol. Castiel enjoyed both on him.

Castiel took Dean in his arms then, holding on firmly, but tenderly. He caressed his hair, despite Dean's protests. He hummed some Enochian lullaby he used to sing to cherubim to get them to sleep. It appears that Dean enjoyed it enough to soften his muscles and breath slightly heavier. Cas led him to Dean's room, laying him down and straddling him.

"Dean, it's alright. I'm here now and I'm not leaving." Castiel ran his hand through Dean's hair, peering down at him with admiration and certainty and god knows what else.

"'Sure an angel..." Dean slurred, sleep falling on him heavily.

Despite being blind to what Dean meant, Cas nodded and stroked his face. "Whatever it takes, Dean."


End file.
